Nylon Conquest Ch. 02

My reaction must have been obvious because Larissa laughed. "Trust me, you have no idea what's in store for you. The stores of Paris and Milan are filled with delicious art for the legs, all designed exclusively to make a woman feel sexy and beautiful, and to render men helpless."

"Larissa, you're beginning to drive me crazy. How do we start?"

She turned and disappeared into the bathroom. I lay back on the bed and looked around the chaos dominating the room. The cool draft from the air conditioning swept across my bare legs. The vintage sheers had been carefully folded and placed on their package, ready for long term storage, I supposed.

Larissa breezed back into the bedroom with an armful of towels. She lay them out on the bed and carefully tucked them under my legs and bum. Then she went into the kitchen and brought back a large bowl, filled with hot water. On her last trip, now wearing a bathrobe, the suspender stockings and body suit underneath, she brought an adjustable razor and a pair of scissors.

First she asked me to clip away all the hair around my genitals. I did so, getting them as short as I could with the scissors, being careful to collect it all for the lined garbage can by the bed.

Then she got to work. She dipped a facecloth in hot water and dampened my skin all over. Then she squirted foam all over my pubic area. She had fun with it and pretended not to notice when she flooded my cock and balls with the stuff and acted all flustered as she wiped it all off. We laughed and she gently dried me. She knew it would feel nice, and she was very loving.

Working carefully with the razor, Larissa shaved me clean from waist to toes. She was able to move my legs enough to get everything, even the backs. Then she squirted out a copious amount of thick gooey moisturizer and rubbed it all over my legs. She studiously (and wisely) avoided my hardening dick. When she was done, she lovingly caressed my now smooth and soft skin with her hands.

"Oh my Lilith, you have beautiful skin. It makes me want to drop a snake."

"Larissa, who is Lilith? You say, 'Oh my Lilith' like most people say, 'oh my God'. Who is Lilith?"

Larissa paused to think. She stared at the wall in front of her as she seemed to be deciding.

"I'm not sure you're ready. I don't know..."

"Larissa, what could trouble you so much? You know I'll support you. It's just a name. Right?"

Larissa looked at me sharply. "Just a name? You have no idea."

"So enlighten me. Who is this, this Lilith?"

Larissa went silent for several long moments. It was clear she was in turmoil.

"My plan was to pull you deeper into my fetish before we discussed this. But you love this right? You share my fetish for silk and nylon, for stockings and pantyhose and garters and everything that goes with? Right?"

I nodded. "Larissa, you've opened something inside me I never imagined possible. I deeply want to explore this with you. After all, didn't I quit my job to dive these depths with you as my partner?"

Larissa smiled and put her hand on my arm. "Yes, you did. That was an incredible commitment to me. To us. It says everything. But in the space of a few minutes, I've revealed so much about me. No other man knows I pray to an ancient goddess. It's one of my most closely guarded secrets."

"You also mentioned a coven."

"Yes I did, didn't I? One day, perhaps when you're ready, and they're ready, you may get to meet them."

"Women?"

"Women, yes. Many of the members have said they are looking for a male member. One with certain...specifications. But we'll talk of this later."

She took a deep breath. "OK. So here goes. My deepest secrets, for you and for you alone. I've told no-one about this outside of my coven. No-one. We'll be forever bonded by this secret, my love. Do you think you're ready? Because once I tell you, we are bonded for life. Beyond life, we are one in the universe. Are you ready for that?"

I couldn't imagine what she was talking about, but there was no decision to make.

"Of course, my love. Tell me. Tell me everything."

Larissa looked down at the floor. She took a deep breath and began her tale.

"I was always a fan of comics and fantasy fiction, as you know from the boxes and boxes of comics and graphic novels in our storage closet. I loved horror, I loved romance, but most of all I loved the stories of Vampirella, the ultra-sexy vampire who drank bottled blood and defended humanity from evil. She had a spectacular body and long flowing black hair. Her costume revealed just about everything, of course.

"Since forever I have bought everything Vampirella. I have her entire comic run, her magazines, all her fantasy novels. In college, on Hallowe'en, my costumes were always Vampirella, and to be honest, about as revealing.

"When I was nineteen, I had my first sexual encounter. It was with an older man. I think he was around thirty. I had thought I was ready for some joyous, transcendent experience. It was not. He was a selfish lover, and he cared nothing for my needs. I left him in the night. He called me for months after. He begged me for another chance. But I refused him.

"Each time I took a lover, I hoped for something moving, sensual. But all my sexual encounters left me emotionally empty and physically frustrated. So I abstained from sex while I searched my soul for answers.

"When I graduated from Columbia, I got a job in a local New York TV station as administrative support to the weather office. I was ultra-ambitious. I worked hard and put in incredibly long hours learning the TV business. Physically, I trained like an Olympic athlete - I ran marathons, lifted weights, consulted with the network's nutrition coach, studied fashion and makeup. I knew I was beautiful, but I wasn't satisfied. Since I was a little girl, I'd always wanted to look like Vampirella. I'd researched the best surgeons, the most successful procedures. I saved every penny I could. Many people save for retirement - I saved for beauty. A year after I got my first job, I went under the knife. They gave me a light touch, mostly. Nose, lips, eyes, cheekbones, neck. I got a vaginal tuck. Fat cells sucked from my gut. And I'd been growing my hair since college." When that was all done, I took the final step."

Larissa put her hands under her breasts and squeezed them together. She could just get them gathered in a double handful. "These. I wanted the sexiest tits in the entire world. I already have the legs, thank Lilith. But when I finally got these, I was Vampirella. I now had the confidence I needed. I socialized relentlessly. Never missed a chance to network. You'd be amazed what decisions and offers are made over after-work drinks in the television business.

"When the weather guy was literally hit by a bus one afternoon, I volunteered to take his spot. It was a low-key role and because of the way I looked, my hard work, and my networking, it was easy for the station manager to say yes.

"I played the game to the max. I shortened my skirts. Tightened my outfits. Invested in a case of glossy Cecilia de Rafael pantyhose. I flirted with the cameramen, and sweet talked him into zooming into my legs a couple of times.

"As my spot became popular, I was noticed by network executives. When I was called in to interview for the position as weather reporter on their prime morning show, I thought 'Yes!', this is my ticket.

"But it was immediately made clear to me that there was a price to be paid for the position." Larissa swallowed hard and took a deep breath. She turned to look me straight in the eye. "I was ambitious. I wanted that job. My whole life had prepared me for that job. I earned it. And here was some sicko bastard standing in my way.

"I paid that price."

I did my absolutely best to keep any emotion off my face. I hope I succeeded.

Larissa continued. "I cried for days after the interview. New York had broken me. I couldn't survive it. I was a failure. I was ready to call it quits. It just wasn't worth it. I didn't even know if that bastard would come through.

"But then I got the call. The job was mine. But he was only offering union scale.

"I was so fucking angry. It wasn't fair. I hated everything about the industry. I hated the men for plundering my body, for stealing my self-respect, then throwing me a pittance for my weakness. I hated the women for enabling them. I hated the support staff for looking the other way.

"But I learned to park that hate. It was still there, seething under the surface, but I tucked it away, ready to pluck it out and use it when I needed it. It was always there, gnawing at me, degrading my soul, and eating away my psyche.

"Everything changed for me when I bought a new Vampirella graphic novel. It introduced Lilith, Vampirella's immortal friend from the underworld. Lilith was the queen of a legendary race of female sex demons from hell. The Succubi.

"Lilith had me completely hooked. She was all powerful. She consumed men's souls and grew stronger with every conquest. That guest appearance in Vampirella spawned her own magazine and comic series. I bought everything that featured Lilith. I loved reading about her adventures. But more importantly, I loved her attitude. No-one fucks with Lilith. Lilith would never screw a man for a minimum wage job, or any job for that matter unless she had a master plan. But never as a victim.

"I realized that I had been doing it wrong the whole time. I started reading everything I could get my hands on about the Succubi Fems. Books, graphic novels, internet. I aspired to be like Lilith. I studied all the Succubi legends. As sex demons, they fed on men's souls, feasted on their cum until the men were dried and spent, their souls absorbed and enslaved. No, no, no, I see what you're thinking. I know it's not real. It's an attitude, a way of looking at life, at men, at casual sex. The Succubus has unequalled sexual power - unquenchable sexual thirst. And if I was ever again to be put in a position of unequal power against a man, I would ask myself: What would Lilith do?

"Anyway, soon my ratings began to climb. I credit Lilith for giving me attitude. It played well on camera. Even the women were beginning to pay attention to the weather spots. When one of the marketing guys, some asshole who was hot for me, told me over drinks that ad rates during my spot were going through the roof, I went to the executive in charge to ask for a raise. Of course he wanted sex.

"And so I asked myself: what would Lilith do? How would the queen of the Succubi deal with the situation? How would she handle this asshole? Besides sucking out his soul, I mean.

"In a way, I did suck out his soul. I fucked that cocksucker. But this time, I did it on my terms. I fed him a massive dose of Viagra and fucked him mercilessly. I kept him up the whole night, completely fucking his brains out. I sucked him off and rode him hard. I smothered him in my tits, pulled his dick into my cunt, then made him lick his own cum from my pussy. When he tried to pass out, I shook him awake and demanded he fuck me again. When he tried to leave at three in the morning, I blocked the door, walked him back to the bed, and made him eat me out. Then I sucked him off. Again. When he tried to escape around five AM, I tackled him. He begged me to let him go, but I slapped his face, squeezed out his dick and rode him, right there on the floor. He'd already cum so many times it took thirty minutes of power stroking to get him off that last time. I gave him the night of his life so that when it was over he'd go home to his wife and think about me. I knew that soon, he'd look back on that incredible night and be desperate for an encore. Which he never got. He chased me relentlessly and I turned him down while keeping him on a string, giving him just a little bit of hope.

"Finally he understood. Or he thought he did. He gave me a new contract and a key to a room at the Peninsula. He included a note, paperclipped to the signature page. I still have it: "Meet me tonight and the job is yours. The room is paid up for the weekend."

The fool. He'd even written it down. He grew up in a culture where men like that think they're invincible. He'd probably done this to dozens of women. And he'd gotten away with it, every time. He figured I was the same - that I'd never report him, that I wouldn't blow my career.

"That was his big mistake. First, I ratted to his wife. Then, on the same day, I filed suit on him and the network. My timing was perfect - right in the middle of the #metoo movement. Feinstein had just been sentenced to jail. The network went nuts. The publicity would have cost them hundreds of millions. Viewership, advertisers, staff, talent - it was all on the line for them. They were desperate to keep this out of the news. So my lawyer struck fast and hard.

"When it all played out, in exchange for an NDA, which I wanted anyway, I got a secret settlement from the network for thirty-six point five million, plus fees and taxes paid, and a five-year contact at four million a year, with a 100% bonus potential based on ratings (which I fully get, I want you to know).

"He got a divorce and a job pushing a cleaning cart on the night shift at the Roosevelt. And it all started with Lilith, the Succubus queen." Larissa turned to look directly into my eyes. "I am Lilith."

I assumed she meant this as a metaphor for her kick-ass professional attitude. I wasn't about to challenge her now, after she had revealed so much of her past. But it explained a lot. I just nodded.

Larissa continued. "OK, enough of that. Let's get down to business. I've got so much to show you."

I swallowed hard. I couldn't help but feel I was going to be tested here. If I reacted without much visible excitement, she would not want to go deep with me and fulfill her darkest fetish. Or if I blew my load with every trial, she might get impatient and give up entirely. There was a lot on the line.

"What do you have in mind?" I asked feebly.

"While telling you that story, I changed my mind. I've decided to move you up the scale to start. I've been thinking I was too harsh about the stockings. Maybe it would be good to expose you to the pinnacle of the art of stockings. So while I am going to keep the vintage stockings in reserve, I've decided to take you on a sexy voyage to three countries who excel in the art of making the finest stockings in the world. Tonight, we're going first to Spain, where I have a spectacular pair of super-gloss tights for you from Cecilia de Rafael. Simple to wear, startling in look. When I wear these tights, I can feel the heads turn to look at my legs as I walk by. These beauties are an instant shocker to any man's brain and to his groin, guaranteed to warrant a hard punch from his wife when he sees these on a woman in public, because he's powerless to resist at least a glance, and usually much more.

Larissa picked up a small bag containing two packages of pantyhose. She pulled one open and brandished a pair of pantyhose that seemed to shine in the dim light of the room. She sat down and with practiced precision, she placed her feet into the pantyhose and pulled them up to her waist. She put on a short shirt, cut high on her thigh and when she stepped into her heels to give me a wonderful show of her legs, I was completely transfixed.

"Oh my Lilith," I said, invoking her heroine. "Your legs - I can't believe how glossy and shiny they are. Soooo, sexy."

"Like I say. When I wear these in the city, men have actually turned to follow me. I'm not afraid - I can handle them. No pantyhose in the world attracts the eye like Cecilia de Rafael. These are the shiniest of the oil-shines. Any girl's sexual quotient goes up several points just wearing them. Come on, let's get these babies on your legs."

Larissa stepped to the bed with the second pair and deftly pulled them onto my body. I swished my legs together as much as I could without bending them. They looked so bright, so incredibly sexy. It was stirring to feel them on my legs and stare at a similar pair on my wife's spectacular legs at the same time.

Larissa sat on the bed and crossed her legs. "Cecilia de Rafael's are the embodiment of sex, the ultimate mix of the feminine, the transexual, the Broadway dancer, the Vegas showgirl. She hits you in the face and takes you down, and you are helpless against her sexual power. You fall into her clutches and you'll never escape, try as you might, for you are trapped, held fast until she has her way with you, then decides your fate, for you have been used, abused, and depleted."

I couldn't take it anymore. The feeling of these glorious pantyhose on my skin, the vision of them on my wife's spectacular legs magnified magnificently with her stunning description of this marvelous hosiery set me off. Reduced to a helpless, horny slut, I found I was stroking my cock unconsciously.

Larissa told me the story of these spectacular stockings.

Cecilia de Rafaels are sex on full display, they are your thirty-something professional wife coming home on the subway, savoring the gazes from hungry males at her magnificent, oil-shiny legs. She's heading home at last from a frustrating day at the office. Getting there, she slams the door, shouting your name. She finds you in the kitchen. She wordlessly shuts off your stove, takes the spoon from your hands and sets it aside. She draws up the zipper of her fitted knee-length pencil skirt to gain access to her crotchless Eterno 15 Cecilia de Rafael pantyhose, shining like a beacon on those incredible legs, telling the world 'Look at these legs, these long, glorious legs that you will shame yourself to stare at but will never have'. Except that YOU will have them, and it looks like she means right, fucking NOW. She drops her panties on the floor, right there. The scarlet four-inch Jimmy Choo spikes stay on her feet, no time to release the straps.

She rips off your belt, unfastens your pants and pulls them down. Wrapping a leg around the back of your knees, she guides you to the kitchen floor. She's soaking wet; she's been thinking about fucking you all day; she considered masturbating in the women's bathroom but held her libido for the rest of the day, plotting her campaign to take you down, to fucking rape you senseless, to impale your stiff, twitching member into her needy, dripping pussy, then screw the living daylights out of you with long, fast strokes while two of her fingers massage her clit as she works herself into a steaming hot lather. You are just a passenger in her quest for release and you will submit, you will do anything it takes to give this to her.

But she doesn't need your cooperation, not really, she just needs you to submit to her needy plunder of your prone body. It doesn't take long, she's too horny, her cunt is too hungry and needy. She comes, first to cum, she so badly needed to cum and she comes hard, fast, screaming with release, and she rides you on and on and on, grinds into you with everything she has and you will have your due only when she is done and sated and ready to let you have yours.

Shit. Larissa was driving me bat-shit crazy. I couldn't take it. I came like a rocket ship, flooding my CdR's.

"OK," she said, laughing. "That was encouraging. After that, I can't wait to get you to France. Here's where we get real sexy."

"Sexier than these? No way, no fucking way. I just cannot imagine anything sexier than Cecilia de Rafael."

"Well, imagine away. CdR's are wonderful but wait 'til I get you into Cervin. I'm afraid we're heading into puddle-of-cum territory. It's going to be so much fun to see your reaction to these babies. I just about drop a snake every time I put them on."

Larissa hopped off the bed and extracted two small boxes. Inside, custom wrapped in tissue paper, were the silkiest, most delicate stockings, I must say, in the whole fucking world. Easily rivalling the vintage silk stockings she had produced earlier, these diaphanous dreams were pure female sex. I was already getting excited again. Thank you, Cialis.